Royal Witch Curse (#9, Sweetland Witch Women Sleuths) (A Cozy Mystery Book): Sweetland Witch, #9

By Zoe Arden

The Goblin King is missing... and the entire goblin species is in jeopardy!

When the Goblin King goes missing, the goblins enlist Ava Fortune's help.

Ava doesn't want to get involved this time.

But Sheriff Knoxx refuses to help. Even though he's part goblin.

He'd rather be a full-on wizard.

But he knows he can't ignore his true self forever.

If they can't find the Goblin King soon, an entire species may be wiped out of existence.

It's never easy being a witch, but things are twice as hard for Ava these days.

The goblins are the most demanding of all the paranormals, and soon she learns there's more to the Goblin King's disappearance.

But it may be too late to do anything about it.

It's not just her life on the line this time…

It's an entire species.

Can Ava keep her bakery in check while also solving this new puzzle?

Or should she give up now before she gets hurt?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zoe Arden
• Release date: Feb 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393896531

Zoe Arden

It was from reading Agatha Christie’s mystery books that inspired Zoe to write cozy mystery novels. Zoe liked the fact that cozy mysteries are able to offer readers a form of escapism that typical detective stories can’t. Like what Marilyn Stasio, who has been the Crime columnist forThe New York TimesBook Review since the late 1980s, recently wrote: “The abiding appeal of the cozy mystery owes a lot to our collective memory, true or false, of simpler, sweeter times.” It is Zoe’s desire that her writings will evoke that nostalgic memory in all of us; those memories of the good old days. What sets Zoe apart in her writings is her fusing of Mystery with Paranormal elements, a combination which will bring about fantasies that are intriguing and engaging. Her stories contain unexpected twists and sometimes light-hearted moments that will make one smile at Zoe’s quirkiness, fun and wittiness in her writings.

Book preview

prologue

*   *   *

They're getting away!

Stop them!

To the left! Colt yelled, chasing after the two men he'd called friends for the last several months. As far as they knew, he was still their friend.

Robbie and David were big, but they were fast. They ran through the thicket of trees just up ahead of him, turning right even though he'd told them left, and Colt knew they were closing in on their victims.

Guys! Stop! Colt yelled after them.

Robbie glanced over his shoulder, catching Colt's eyes just as he ran under a nest of scraggly branches that scraped at his cheeks. They left their mark on Colt's face, like the fingers of some otherworldly being who'd reached out from the grave to scratch him up.

Stop? Robbie said. Are you crazy? We've almost got them!

Yeah, but they're dangerous.

We know that, Robbie shouted, his irritation growing. Why do you think we've been after them all these months?

Colt was nearly out of breath. He drew as much as he could into his lungs and picked up his pace. He was almost even with them now. Robbie had slowed slightly in his efforts to get through a wall of bushes eight feet high. The goblins had just run into them and were hiding.

David pressed forward, never slowing down, going straight into the bushes without even blinking. He let out several grunts and groans as the bushes enveloped him like some kind of man-eating plant. Colt could hear him calling out for her help from behind the thick forest of green shrubbery, but he couldn't see him anywhere.

Where are you guys? Get in here! David's shouts were getting louder, more desperate. I've lost them! Hurry! I've lost them!

What do you mean you lost them? Robbie cried. How can you lose them? I thought you had them! That sent Robbie spiraling over the edge. He dug a path out for himself and ran into the thicket of bushes just as David had.

Colt had just enough time to wonder if they were really still bushes when they were so tall—at what point did they become trees or could they be something else entirely?—before he followed Robbie inside. He could hear rustling all around him but couldn't quite make out what he was seeing. There were too many branches, too many twigs, too many leaves, too much of everything.

Where are you guys? Colt called out.

I'm here, called David.

Stay there, said Robbie. I'll go to you.

Me, too, said Colt.

Robbie and Colt made their way toward David's voice. Walking through these bushes was like walking through a maze. He imagined this was what a rat must feel like when it's trapped in a science experiment. He turned left and all he saw was more branches. This wasn't just a thicket; it was a forest. He turned right, and he saw the same. He couldn't get his bearings. Finally, he bumped into David. Literally.

Ouch! David yelled. Watch it.

Sorry, Colt said.

Where's Robbie? David asked.

He was just behind me. Cold looked around and scratched his head. At least I thought he was.

Over here, Robbie called in a loud whisper. Colt had no idea why he was whispering; it wasn't as if the goblins didn't already know they were here. They made their way over and saw Robbie crawling on his hands and knees.

What are you doing? Colt asked.

Looking for tracks, Robbie said. 

Get up, said David, disgusted with them both. You'll never find tracks in here.

Do you see them? asked Robbie, standing back up.

Ssh! David hissed excitedly.

What is it? asked Robbie.

His question was followed by silence. Colt and Robbie exchanged a glance. They moved quietly yet swiftly behind David, not wanting to lose him again. He stopped just ahead of them and hunkered down, drawing his gun.

You see them, Robbie said, relieved.

Colt's heart began to race. His head felt dizzy. I don't see them, he said, hoping that somehow saying the words out loud would make them true.

There, David said and pointed just ahead of them and to the right. No more than ten feet from where they stood was a shaking flurry of brown and green leaves; hidden in the leaves were two shadowed figures. Colt groaned inwardly and wished that the next assignment he had was an easier one.

Let's get them, said Robbie, drawing his gun as well.

Stop, Colt said, shaking his head. His voice was hoarse.

Robbie and David looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. What do you mean stop? snapped David. That's them. Let's go.

Stop, Colt repeated, his voice growing wearier. He was tired of this; he had been for months now. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his father or Ava. All he wanted now was a hot shower and a kiss from his fiancée. He hoped that she was getting his letters. Dean assured him she was, but he didn't trust Dean any more than he trusted these two goons with him now.

I can't let you kill them, Colt said.

Now Robbie and David were laughing.

You had me there for a second, said David.

Yeah, I thought you were serious, said Robbie.

David and Robbie turned their backs to him and continued toward the figures, which were still standing, trying to hide as if they thought they could somehow make themselves invisible. Goblins did have powerful magic, but it wasn't that powerful. And their magic didn't always work right when they'd been hurt.

COMHA agent, Colt said before it was too late and there was nothing left he could do. He drew his badge from his inner coat pocket and held it up, flashing it for them even though he wasn't sure they could see it in this light.

David and Robbie turned back to him, their eyes going wide. COMHA? asked David. You don't work for them. This is a joke, right?

No joke, said Colt.

"What the heck are you talking about? You're a COMHA agent? Robbie asked. Since when?"

Since always, Colt said.

The goblins moved quietly forward now. Colt could just make out their large round eyes. They were holding hands and watching the scene before them as if they'd never seen wizards or COMHA agents before.

You seriously work for the Council on Magic and Human Affairs? said David doubtfully. He was shaking his head. That badge isn't real. You're making that up.

Robbie looked at him from the corner of his eye. David, I don't think he's joking.

Uh-uh, said David. No way. We've eaten with this man. We've gotten drunk with him. We've planned this killing with him for the last how many months? He was still shaking his head. He's got cold feet now that we’re here, that's all.

I assure you this isn't cold feet, Colt said, his voice gravelly. It felt like he was getting sick.

The goblins had moved even farther forward now. He could make out not just their eyes but the rest of them as well. Their bodies were a scaly gray-green. They were no more than five feet high, though the male was definitely taller. He smiled tentatively at Colt and gave a quick wave. The female clung to him, petrified.

David's eyes narrowed. It seemed to be the wave from Zulubar that had finally convinced him Colt was telling the truth. He raised his gun again. Instead of aiming it at the goblins, he aimed it at Colt and cocked the trigger.

Colt put his hands up. David, you want to be careful just now. Shooting a COMHA agent can get you in a whole heap of trouble. You're not stupid, you know that.

"You're the stupid one if you think I'm going to let you get away with this. You can't pretend to be one of us for half a year and then expect me to just let you go when I find out it was all a lie. I'm killing you, and I'm killing them."

Suddenly, Zulubar leaped out and knocked David to the ground. His gun went off but missed Colt entirely, shooting nothing but air. The gun went sailing out of David's reach.

Robbie jumped into the mix, pulling Zulubar off David and attempting to wrestle him to the ground. Goblins were extremely strong though, and Robbie didn't stand a chance. The female goblin, Kyrab, grabbed the gun that David had dropped and held it unsteadily out in front of her.

Stop moving or I'll shoot! she screamed. Her voice was terrified, but Colt had no doubt that she meant what she said. As if to prove her point, she fired the gun up into the air. It sounded off loudly and clearly. Colt kept his own gun trained on the two men. Robbie still had his gun in his hand, but now he was outnumbered two to one.

Robbie sighed and dropped his gun. He looked at Colt with disgust. I thought you were one of us.

"You should be one of us, said David. It's never too late."

I'll never be one of you. Hunting goblins is illegal. Even if it wasn't, it would still be wrong.

Robbie began to laugh. Soon, David joined him.

What's so funny? Colt asked.

You think Robbie and I are the only ones? said David. Tomorrow there'll be five more people out here looking for these two. And if something happens to those five, there will be five more to take their place. We're not going away.

Colt's chest ached. His heart was still racing.

One way or another, said Robbie, "we are getting rid of the goblins. All of them."

The two goblins they'd been chasing looked at Colt with worried expressions. Zulubar put his arm lovingly around Kyrab and held her tightly against him as a soft sob escaped her throat.

Once these two are gone, said David, the rest of their race won't stand a chance.

Colt looked at the two goblins he'd been ordered to protect at all costs. King Zulubar, I can't let you return home. Not yet. It isn't safe.

The king nodded. I know. I knew when this started the chances of returning home were unlikely. I also knew that you would keep me and Kyrab safe.

Oh, jeez, David said, rolling his eyes. "You know these goblins? You're friends with them?"

No more questions, Colt said. Keeping his gun trained on them, Colt nudged David and Robbie along until they were all out of the forest, then he called Dean.

Dean picked up on the first ring. Hello?

It's me, Colt said. They made the attempt tonight. I got them, but it's not over.

Stay where you are. Don't let the king out of your sight.

I won't. Will you tell Ava I'm safe?

Dean hesitated. I'll tell her.

"You have been giving her my messages, haven't you?"

Of course, I have.

Colt felt the hairs on the back of his neck electrify with anger. "We're engaged. You have to tell her I'm okay. It's part of COMHA's rules and regulations."

Who do you think wrote the rules and regulations? I've told her.

Colt knew he had no choice right now. He had to trust Dean. When he could, he would get word to Ava himself. For now, he had to do his job. He had to protect the Goblin King.

*   *   *

0 1

*   *   *

Hurry up, Ava, cried Eleanor. We're wasting time. She was filling box after box with assorted pastries. We were working in the front room of our bakery, The Mystic Cupcake, doing Eleanor's favorite thing in the world—multitasking. By working out here instead of in the back, we could still help customers when they came in.

I'm going as fast as I can, I said, spinning the cake around on its stand so that I could finish frosting it. I blew a strand of blond hair out of my eyes. Eleanor did the same with hers.

The buttercream was thick and sweet. I spread it over the vanilla cake layer, putting a little extra in the center just as the special order indicated. I held my breath then picked up the chocolate layer and set it on top. I began the process all over again, spreading frosting, spinning the cake, holding my breath.

Relax, both of you, said Trixie. We're right on time. Early even. We still have an hour.

An hour isn't that long, said Eleanor. What if they come early?

Otis Winken is a sweetheart, said Trixie. You know that. Even if we were two days late, he'd be too polite to say anything.

But I don't want to disappoint him, said Eleanor. "Besides, I'm not late. Ever. For anything."

Trixie rolled her eyes. I know. I've only been your sister for—

Eleanor shot her a look. "Don't you dare say it."

What? asked Trixie innocently. "You're not that old. A sly smile played on her lips. Well, I'm not that old anyway." Eleanor was glaring at her. Trixie's deadpan expression only infuriated her more.

"I mean, you are my older sister, Trixie continued. So, I guess by definition, you have to be at least a little bit old. Comparatively speaking, I mean."

I giggled.

You think it's funny? said Eleanor, rounding on me. She lifted her eyebrows. Wait until you're old, then we'll see if you still think it's funny.

Ava won't be old for years yet, said Trixie. No one in their twenties even thinks about things like that. Anyway, she has the benefit of knowing that you will always be the oldest person in the room. She batted her eyelashes rapidly at Eleanor, smiling as if she'd just paid her a compliment.

If people hadn't known us, they'd still have known in an instant we were related. We had the same gold-blond hair, the same fair skin, and the same snarky temperament. We liked to poke fun at each other, but it was all harmless fun.

You're lucky I don't hex you right now, said Eleanor.

From the corner, Rocky lifted his head and yawned. He let out one low woof then lowered his head back to the floor and resumed his nap. His large gray and white body rose and fell with each heavy, sleepy breath.

I think Rocky agrees with Eleanor, I said.

Rocky would agree with anyone who gave him bacon on a weekly basis, said Trixie. You can't trust a wolfhound.

Eleanor scoffed. Rocky is the epitome of objectivity. His being a wolfhound has nothing to do with it.

Trixie shot me a look and rolled her eyes. He's your familiar. Of course, he's going to agree with you.

Eleanor's lips pinched tightly together. Have you heard from Colt lately? she asked me, changing the subject.

I shook my head.

It's been a while, hasn't it? asked Eleanor.

Trixie looked up from the cupcakes she was frosting, a slight frown on her face.

A few months now, I told them. I keep asking Dean Lampton about him, but he won't tell me anything.

I thought he had to, said Eleanor. Wasn't that part of the reason you and Colt got engaged? So, he'd have to keep you apprised of Colt's situation?

I shrugged. I guess Dean has his own ideas about keeping me apprised of the situation.

My father stepped out of the back room just then. He was carrying a tray of dark chocolate brownies with happiness extract, one of my specialties. It was impossible to eat one and not break out in a smile as wide as the Mississippi River is long. If you ate too many, you might even start to giggle.

All done, last one, my dad said, saving me from having to answer any more questions about Colt. He set the tray down and wiped his brow with a napkin. He tossed it in the trash then turned to Eleanor. How's it going out here?

Just fine. If by fine, you mean we're running forty minutes behind.

"We're not forty minutes behind," I said.

Eleanor always got anxious when a special order came in. It didn't matter how well she'd planned everything, every special order produced a fresh anxiety in her, which was only squelched when said order was complete.

I wouldn't stress out too much, said my father. It's a small birthday party that Otis is throwing. He said it wasn't going to be anything fancy, just some cake and—

Eleanor shot daggers at him with her eyes. Eli, you know as well as I do that it doesn't matter how fancy or not fancy a party is, it's all to do with who the party is for.

That's a good point, said Trixie. Tadpole is a VIP in this town.

Precisely. This town loves Tadpole. If word got out that we'd given him any less than our very best, we'd never hear the end of it.

Tadpole is just as sweet as Otis, said my dad. He'd never complain.

As long as you have Tadpole's potato chips, Trixie said, he'll be happy, which means that everyone will be happy.

Oh, my word, Eleanor screeched, her voice going so high that it could have cracked glass. The potato chips! I almost forgot. She turned to me. Ava, did you get them ready?

I finished them yesterday. There are three kinds—caramel covered, chocolate covered, and fudge filled.

How do you fill a potato chip with fudge? asked Trixie.

It was tricky. I ended up making one batch of ultrathin potato chips and using the fudge to stick them together. More of a potato chip sandwich, I guess, but Tadpole is going to love them.

Perfect, said Eleanor. She glanced at the clock. Fifty minutes.

Relax, Eleanor, before you make yourself sick, said my dad. Otis is picking them up. We don't even have to deliver.

He began putting the brownies he'd made into a box and then set the box aside. He grabbed another box and began placing cookies in it. He prepared four more such boxes, each with a different type of cookie. There was chocolate chip, peanut butter, white chocolate macadamia, and my personal favorites, oatmeal raisin with dark and white chocolate chips.

I made sure to infuse each cookie with some sort of extract. I wanted to keep people happy and peppy, so I'd made extra strong batches of both. If someone ate more than three of my peanut butter cookies with peppy powder, they were going to be bouncing off the walls like they'd had a dozen cups of coffee. They might have the tiniest bit of a hangover in the morning, but it would sure keep the party lively.

The doorbell chimed, and I looked up to see a goblin stroll into the store. My eyes bugged out of my head. I spun around to get Eleanor's attention and knocked my shoulder into the cake. It wobbled on its stand then fell to the floor with a loud splat.

Eleanor screamed. My breath was pulled from my lungs, and my heart dropped into my stomach.

It's okay, I told her, feeling sick.

It's okay? How is it okay? Eleanor's face had gone three shades of white. Her eyes were wide, and she looked as though she was about to pass out.

I scratched my head and looked at my dad. He shrugged.

I can fix it, I told her.

You can't fix this, Ava. The cake is all over the floor. What are you going to do, scoop it up and tell them the dirt and hairs they find mixed in with the frosting are part of a new theme we were going for?

Trixie laughed.